


Just take my hand (hold it tight)

by Emily_Davison



Series: You'll Be in My Heart [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Crying, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Domestic Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Relationships, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, tony is Trying His Best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_Davison/pseuds/Emily_Davison
Summary: Peter is feeling under the weather and Tony just tries to do the best he can.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: You'll Be in My Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723405
Comments: 22
Kudos: 267
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics





	Just take my hand (hold it tight)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Aahh I'm in love with this fic at the moment, I can't wait to get back to writing it again as I've been busy writing a prompt for the past few days and finishing up another one shot for my other series, so I can finally return to this one once I have them done! I'm really excited to share some more of Tony and Peter's bonding in this one, hope you enjoy! :)

It wasn't often that Peter was unwell. After the spider bite and the immediate ramifications of this resulting in his extraordinary healing powers, his immune system seemed to be doing an impressive job at fighting off infections and viruses. However, with his severe lack of rest in the passing days since his aunt's death and the stress that inevitably followed this, it wasn't at all unexpected that the mental strain on the youth's mind would also have physical repercussions on his health.

Tony and Peter were relaxing on the sofa watching movies, just for something to do, and it was the billionaire's hope that watching mindless comedies would distract the teen from thinking too much about his current circumstances. Halfway through their second film, Peter excused himself to the bathroom and he was gone for much longer than usual. Tony was beginning to get concerned when ten minutes passed and, although he wanted to make sure he respected the kid's boundaries and gave him privacy and space when he needed it, he couldn't ignore the fact that the emotionally scarred, lonely boy he had picked up from the hospital just over a week ago, needed him. He was slowly becoming accustomed to the 'signs', as he called them, which warned him to leave Peter be when he needed to be alone, like the day before when the boy grew very quiet over dinner and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes downcast and fiddling with a string on his jumper. Tony didn't see Peter for the rest of the evening after that. But now. The genius had a feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite explain which told him that the kid wasn't just in the bathroom because he needed to be alone.

Tony was just on the verge of getting up to check on the teen when Peter stumbled back in. He was rather more ragged in appearance that when he had left, his hair sticking up in various places as if he'd been running his fingers through it relentlessly and his fore-head was clammy with sweat, cheeks flushed and skin a deathly shade of white. His eyebrows were furrowed and pinched together in the tell-tail signal that he was in pain, something the man had quietly taken note of when the boy looked like he was on the verge of bursting into tears, just like the look he had on his face during the funeral when he stubbornly struggled to remain stoic throughout the service. Tony had kept his arm around Peter the whole time, but still the kid would not budge and give in to the emotional turmoil his body was likely experiencing. 

"Hey, kid. You okay?" Tony asked, pocketing his phone after he had been checking e-mails whilst waiting for Peter to show his face again.

"Not good. Headache," Peter stated, bluntly, padding over and collapsing on to sofa with a heavy sigh.

Tony hummed in thought, he suspected as much. The kid really didn't look well at all. "Sit up, Pete. Face me," he requested and Peter did so without complaint, but a low groan escaped his lips and he kept his eyes squeezed shut.

The billionaire gently felt the boy's fore-head with the back of his hand and he made a small noise of concern at the burning heat immediately reacting against his rough skin. "You're pretty warm. Where does it hurt? The whole head?" He mused aloud, surprising himself slightly with how easily he slipped into the role of parent. Just ten minutes ago they could have passed as good friends or a mentor and student taking a few minutes to relax and watch crappy movies together, but the carefree image had now flipped onto its head to something Tony would have thought five years ago that he'd never be doing. Caring for a sick child had never been on his agenda back then, funny how things changed with old age. He figured his fatherly instincts must have began to kick in once he let the kid sleep in his bed a few nights ago. 

"No, it's more like the front part," Peter grumbled, but Tony didn't miss the way the kid leaned into his hand, which he moved to feel both cheeks.

"You've got a serious hot flush going there, kid," Tony observed, but Peter didn't get the chance to reply as his expression suddenly convulsed and he was suddenly up in a flash, sprinting back down the corridor before the older man could even blink. The unpleasant sounds of retching reached his ears and he winced in sympathy, getting up to trace the boy's path as he decided in that moment that he wasn't going to stand by and let the teen suffer. That poor kid had already been through enough in the past week.

Tony hovered outside the bathroom door, which Peter had left wide open in his haste to reach there, glancing in apprehensively. Peter was kneeling in front of the toilet, his hands bracing himself against the lid, panting heavily and the man's heart broke when he heard the small whimpers escaping the boy's parted lips. Tony softly knocked on the door, but went in anyway. "Kid?"

"I've been sick," Peter weakly stated the obvious fact, voice straining with a high-pitched lift which made him sound five years younger than he was.

"Yeah no shit, Pete." Tony scoffed, dryly, approaching the boy's side and crouching down to place a reassuring hand on Peter's back, rubbing slow soothing circles. They'd gotten noticeably much better at sharing physical contact since Tony took the teen home from the hospital, especially since they slept together in the same bed. 

"Everything's spinning..." Peter whined and Tony could see the sheen of tears in the boy's eyes, before his head disappeared down the toilet again.

Tony's fore-head crinkled in concern when he heart the heavy retching again and his fingers trailed up to tenderly stroke and tug at the small blonde hairs at the base of the boy's neck. It hadn't even occurred to him that taking a child into his care would come with the baggage. It wasn't just the kid's psychological trauma he had to take into consideration, it was the daily complications filtered within as well. He supposed there was a first time for everything and Peter being sick just happened to be one of their first milestones of living together, not that he minded, he was just criminally inexperienced. When Tony himself was unwell, he just took a dozen painkillers and worked through it as he always seemed to have a high pain tolerance, or if it was worse than usual, he would just go to bed and hope that he could sleep it off. He couldn't do that with Peter, of course, the kid needed lots of attention and care after all he'd been through. 

Tony stood to fetch a flannel from the cupboard, which he wet under the tap and when he looked down, Peter was moving back from the toilet, carelessly reaching up to flush the chain. He collapsed against the titled wall, eyes squeezed shut, hair disheveled and the billionaire's heart seized when he spotted a tear trickling down the boy's rosy cheek.

"You're really not feeling too good are you, bud..." The man murmured in sympathy, crouching back down and leaning forward so he could gently wipe the gleam of sweat from the teen's face and vomit dribbling down his chin. Tony was vaguely surprised that he didn't feel even a little bit disgusted, even when he accidentally got some on his thumb. So this is what it felt like. Dad. He brushed a fallen curl from the boy's eye, fondly. Peter squinted at him, his doe eyes filled with pain and a soft look crossed the elder's face as he gazed at the kid - his kid. In that moment, looking into those big brown eyes not too dissimilar to his own, he knew that there was nothing he would not do for him: this boy was his and he always would be.

"It hurts, Tony," Peter cried, small sobs escaping him and more tears slipped down his cheeks. Tony didn't hesitate to reach up and swipe them away with his clean thumb.

"I bet," Tony hummed in agreement, shuffling forward to lean against the wall beside him and slowly guide the teen's head into his lap. Peter let out a pitiful whine at the movement jarring his aching muscles. "Shh...I got you," Tony whispered, laying the boy's head on his knee and beginning to comb his fingers through the chestnut locks, smiling softly when the kid's slender body went lax in his arms. "Close your eyes, kid, you need the sleep. I'm not going anywhere," he spoke, fondly twirling a strand of hair around his fingers, enjoying the baby soft texture against his skin. He stayed there for a good forty five minutes, hand never stopping its tender stroking and petting, until he was sure Peter was out. His mind cast back to just over a week ago when he maneuvered the boy into a similar position to coax him to get some much needed rest after picking him up from the hospital. He supposed he wasn't completely useless if the same move worked twice.

Tony carefully lifted Peter into his arms, bearing the kid's weight well as he headed to the boy's bedroom, where he placed him gently on the bed. He closed the curtains and brushed the curls from Peter's fore-head, before leaving the kid to rest.

...

It was about a couple hours later when Tony heard the teen stirring from his place in the kitchen where he was pouring a second cup of coffee. Peter padded into the kitchen sporting an impressive mess of bed hair and rumpled clothes, but he looked like he had a bit of natural colour to his face now. 

"Hey, kid. How you doing?" Tony asked, intently, dropping his own task to fill a glass of cold water which he handed to Peter.

"Thanks." The teen took a long drink, before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. "It's much better, the dizziness has gone now," he replied and his voice did sound much steadier than the high strain it had before. 

Tony leaned on the counter with his fore-arms and pressed the back of his hand to Peter's fore-head and cheeks. "Temp's gone down a bit," he observed, quietly. "You still got that headache?"

Peter rubbed at his eyes and then his fore-head, clearly still experiencing some pain there. "Yeah, it's right at the front," he moaned.

The older man hummed in thought, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. "We need to get some food in your system. Reckon you could stomach some dry crackers?" He suggested, peeking in a cupboard to see what Peter could eat with a dodgy stomach. "You should have some painkillers, too, for that headache." When Peter nodded in agreement, he got started on sorting out the plates. "Alright, kid, go sit down if you want."

After a few minutes, the living area was filled with the familiar sounds of the _Star Wars_ theme and Peter had made himself comfortable on the sofa, hugging a cushion to his chest. "Bon appétit," Tony announced, placing a bowl of cream crackers in Peter's lap, before sitting beside him and taking a sip of coffee.

"Thanks, Chef Stark," Peter sniggered, eyeing the bowl in a teasing fashion.

"I'd rather not soil your dear taste buds again, good Sir," Tony shot back, smirking sending him a cheeky wink, referring to the disastrous omelette he'd tried to make the kid the other evening. He'd never cooked one before and in an effort to encourage Peter to avoid eating something other than cheese and toast and Pop-Tarts, the man had decided in his infinite wisdom on making something 'simple', in his eyes. Needless to say they'd both been nursing tummy aches for the rest of the night.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Peter groaned and Tony knew he wasn't just joking, as his face seemed to drain of the colour that had been there before when he was reminded of the diabolical meal.

"Fair enough, kid." Tony laughed, taking another swig of coffee. 

A comfortable silence passed between them for a while after Peter finished crunching on his snack, the only sounds being generated from the film. They had watched _Star Wars_ a handful of times now, so Tony didn't pay much attention to it and played on his phone, after making sure Peter took his painkillers of course. It was the teen's comfort movie, even though he immediately chimed up the first time they had played it that "everyone knows Empire is better" (something Tony just nodded along with, not having a clue what the kid was talking about, but was happy to entertain the boy if it kept him distracted from other things) and they had returned to it a few times over the past week.

It was some time later when the mug and bowl had been discarded on the coffee table and Peter's legs had now found themselves to be sprawled across Tony's. It had taken the older man one glance at the exhausted kid to know what he wanted and now one hand lightly rested on the boy's ankles, whilst the other checked emails on his phone and updated Pepper and Rhodey about the kid. When the credits eventually, Peter was fast asleep, his mouth hanging open slightly as small snores escaped him. Tony's heart melted at the undeniably sweet sight and couldn't help but take a couple photos since he already had his phone out, even though he knew Peter would probably kill him if he found out. Tony couldn't care less, this moment was too precious not to savor and he was allowed to have as many pictures of his kid as he wanted. It was the first photo he'd taken of Peter since adopting him and the realization of this caused his chest to swell with warmth as he gazed at the boy.

Tony carefully and slowly lifted Peter's legs of his lap, so he could get up and take the exhausted teen to bed. He slid his arms underneath the kid and lifted him so he could carry him bridal style, an odd feeling spreading through him when Peter's head bobbed against his chest as he brought him to his room.

For the second time in one day, Tony tucked Peter in bed, not wanting to risk waking the teen up if he tried changing him into some comfy clothes. They weren't quite there yet. Before he even thought about it, he bent down and pressed a kiss to the boy's temple. "Sleep tight, bud," he whispered, leaving the door open a crack just in case Peter woke up from a nightmare and needed him. It wouldn't be the first time. His gaze lingered on the peaceful form of his adopted child and he smiled in contentment; he could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy May the Fourth for yesterday! I'm a huge Star Wars fan, have been watching the films since I was very young and couldn't resist putting that little Star Wars reference in there! Hope you guys liked this one, I loved writing Tony as a soft Dad, he just doesn't realize it yet ;)


End file.
